Fear
by AdmHawthorne
Summary: Revelations and such as Maura and Jane go about what should have been a typical day in their lives.
1. Chapter 1

**My silent partner and I have been at it again, so to speak. SP is truly remarkable at assisting with Maura, I must say. I'm going to be putting this one up in chapters, but it should all go up today.**

**Of course, none of the characters and such are ours. We just get a kick out of borrowing them.**

**Please feed us our crack.  
**

* * *

It had been a long day, beginning with a homicide call at four o'clock in the morning and progressing towards an investigation that spanned no more than two hours, but which was followed by paperwork for this and other cases. The rush from hunting down a killer, besting him, and bringing him to justice more than made up for the difficulty. What made aches in the 'muscles' of one's soul was the grind that followed. Even stakeouts weren't so bad, because one could always remember that one was taking an active part in that same heady hunt, building the case against the killer and clearing the innocent of blame. Filling out forms, writing documentation to demonstrate the entire process of investigation, discovery, and procedure so that no lawyer could weasel their way into acquittal or dropped charges, that was the hard part for any detective.

It was really no different for herself, reflected the medical examiner. She had completed the autopsy in a mere six hours, but would have paperwork all the next day to explain her findings to the other medical authorities while leaving the information accessible to those who needed it the most, the detectives charged with finding the truth. They needed her years of medical training, distilled to short words, put together in short sentences, in order to understand that it was (or wasn't) murder, and that the deed was done in this way (or that way), by someone who understood (or didn't) how to accomplish it most effectively.

Maura Isles stepped back from the table on which lay her latest patient, sewn so neatly back together that, once he was dressed again, his relatives would be able to convince themselves that he looked perfectly natural. They would never see the Y-incision, and unless they too were medical experts, would probably fail to notice the purpling under the fingernails which announced the presence of poison in the man's body. Just as she was congratulating herself on a job neatly done, she heard a retching sound behind her.

"Sink, sink, sink," she chanted until Detective Barry Frost obeyed, depositing his lunch into the stainless steel receptacle against the wall and running the water to wash away the evidence of his sensitivity. The doctor turned to face him, eyes evaluating not just his medical condition but also the emotional cues in the man's dark, beautiful face. Shame? Yes, shame, she decided, and once diagnosed, she knew what to say. Or at least, she hoped she knew. One could never be really certain. "I have some crackers and ginger ale in the smaller refrigerator if you'd like to settle your stomach."

Frost began to stammer about bad sushi. Maura just smiled as she patted the sink right beside the man's hand, where he leaned to support himself. "I hope you're not embarrassed," she told him, "about feeling the wrongness of death that wasn't allowed to happen in a natural way on its own, Barry. I think it's a positive character trait."


	2. Chapter 2

**We were playing around with perspective in this story... you'll see what I mean in the next chapter.  
**

* * *

Jane muttered to herself as she ran a hand through the tangle of curls that kept falling in front of her eyes. She hated paperwork. She hated it more than dress shopping with her mother, yoga, and running combined. It was one of the few things about the job she really could live without. In truth, she could also live without being stalked by a serial killer's apprentices, but that was beside the point.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched. Looking around the squad room, she did a quick head count. Korsak was at his desk chuckling at his computer screen. The lieutenant's door was closed. Frost was missing. With a frown she looked around the room again. If she had to do the paperwork, so did he. Where was he?

"Hey, Korsak, you seen Frost lately?"

"Went downstairs for something."

"What for?"

"I dunno. Said something about asking Dr. Isles something."

With a quick flick of her wrist, Jane shut her monitor off to keep anyone from being nosey and jumped up from her chair. "I'll be back in a few." She threw her blazer on as she took the stairs down to the morgue.

"Maur, hey, how's that paperwork going?" She called out as casually as she could as she entered the room. She glanced around to find the ME leaning against the sink next to her partner who was leaning over the sink.


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't know about Frost...  
**

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Frost composed himself, resolutely avoiding looking again at that autopsy table, the place where blood, guts, and innards were habitually exposed. "You're the only one who doesn't give me any jazz about that, Doc," he said with what might become a smile. _Doc_, he thought to himself with almost as much disgust as that with which he viewed those cold corpses. He just couldn't work up the stones to call her by her first name, not even when she did it first. But, patting the sink, that was an overture if ever he saw one. He scooted his hand closer to Isles's until their pinkie fingers were just touching. _Her turn now._ He was a hopeful man, Barry Frost, and he'd seen plenty of evidence when his partner, Jane Rizzoli, was around, that the Doc was a touchy feely person, so maybe he should just give it a try.

"Why would I do that?" wondered the medical examiner, genuinely puzzled. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. I think it's sweet that you never fail to acknowledge the humanity of our victims. In fact, anthropologically speaking, that impulse is an example of the very altruism which has dictated throughout human history that murder should be considered a crime. Admittedly, it could be less messy, but at least it shows your heart is in the right place. Metaphorically."

His heart! His heart! She talked about his heart! Barry became a little more courageous, sidling just a little bit nearer. No nearer than his partner had ever stood, of course. No nearer than the platonic friendship that Maura had already established as being within her comfort zone. "You really think so? Well, you know," he smiled, bolstered by the support, "I try to stay open to those things. I mean, they were people before they became bodies."

Doctor Isles did not move away. Her synapses were firing on all pistons, cataloguing her prior experiences with friendship (of which there were admittedly very few) against the friends she had observed together. Women often stood near one another. Men did not typically do so, unless they were dating or flirting. Men and women as friends, she didn't really know. Her parents had been very close friends, not just marriage partners, and so she could rely on her memories of them, whispering together, _You are my best friend_, then hugging, draping arms across one another's shoulders, kissing cheeks. All those things that she did with Jane, the one real friend she could claim ever to have had. Ding ding ding, she had a winner: this contact was within normal parameters for platonic friendship. Contact initiated, distance closed to within eighteen inches. She took a half-step closer, making the distance exactly twelve inches, as custom apparently dictated. Physical contact approaches, she understood it well enough to make it into her thirties. She could simply do what the other person did, and no more until or unless they moved forward, and she couldn't go wrong. She murmured some comforting response, noncommittal, neither encouraging nor discouraging.

Frost moved a little closer, hand enclosing Maura's with protectiveness, but not quite possessiveness. "Maura," he tried out the taste of her name, heart pounding up in his throat. Neither noticed the ding and swish of the elevator landing on their floor and opening just outside the morgue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Okay, so Frost's okay  
**

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Jane glanced around the morgue, her eyes landing on the scene between Maura and Frost. "Hey, what are you two doing anyway?" Jane charged in toward the two. She glanced down to see Frost's hand covering Maura's and she could feel the anger swirling around in the pit of her stomach. Never one to think before doing, Jane did the one thing her brain would let her do at the very moment. She ran her hand under Maura's elbow, opposite the hand Frost was touching and pulled her away. "Maura, you're supposed to be helping me with these files." She turned to call over her shoulder as she gently but quickly guided the doctor away from her partner, "And you're supposed to be finishing up reports up stairs. You look sick, Frost. Why don't you go sit down at your desk and focus on something you can handle?"

She narrowed her eyes at the man still leaning on the sink behind them before she turned back to the blonde whose arm she still held. "Maura, what's going with Frost?"

A parade of emotions traipsed across Frost's face as his shoulders twitched asnd he startled. Embarrassment at being caught in the midst of trying to make some time with Maura was followed by affront at having his attempt interrupted, then by acceptance as he realized that after all, Jane was the senior partner with every right to remind him to do his job. Still, she didn't have to point out his weakness. He huffed as he withdrew, resenting the hell out of all of those things, but especially the last. _It was effective, though, give her that_, he thought as he cringed at Jane's subtle insult of his manhood. He couldn't have done it better himself, if it had been himself walking in the door and finding someone else moving in on his girl.

_His girl? Moving in?_ Frost took a moment to just stare at Rizzoli, even as the senior detective carried on with whatever was so important. Was he, in fact, moving in on her girl? Did she have the right to smack him down for it? Neither of them had said anything about it, and the Doc hadn't resisted him at all. Then again, in a male-dominated environment, which he was sensitive enough to recognize and acknowledge, maybe they didn't feel safe. Not even with himself and Korsak, and he'd bet dollars to doughnuts he knew why. The two of them had teased Rizzoli often enough, all in good fun. But, what if she'd taken it personally? What if there was truth in the teasing matter, and the Doc was too polite to say so, and Rizzoli was too protective of the Doc, or too worried about being perceived as yet another minority? That, Frost could understand. If he'd been gay as well as black, he would have shut his mouth about it, too.

Frost headed for the door, then turned around to look one more time at the way Rizzoli's hand was still holding and stroking the Doc's forearm. As he drew his eyes up to his partner's face, catching her gaze for just a moment, he nodded once in acceptance. He wouldn't interfere again, he silently promised. It was hard enough being the first and only female detective in Boston; he wouldn't get in the way if Jane Rizzoli had actually decided she cared enough about Doc Isles to take a chance on even more harassment. Once he'd communicated his message with a quick chin lift (_Guy nod_, he thought to himself), or at least thought he had, Frost headed for the elevator, eyes still a bit widened with all the surprise of his sudden burgeoning of insight. The last thought he had before the elevator doors opened on his own floor was that he would take this information to his grave, unless Rizzoli herself were to tell Korsak and the rest of God's green earth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Well, I wonder what Jane was thinking here... wanting to kick Frost like that...  
**

* * *

Meanwhile, Maura was still reacting in her own way to being swerved away from what she had seen as a pleasant pathway. _It wouldn't hurt to make another friend_, she'd thought, because in spite of every experience that said otherwise, she'd always been willing to try one more time. The fact that none of her efforts had born fruit until she'd met Jane dampened her confidence, but not her openness. But Jane was angry, her breaths short, brows pulled down and inward, and her grasp of Maura's forearm was a bit harder than the smaller woman had experienced. Also, she had asked a question. What was it? Oh, yes, Jane wanted to know what Maura and Barry were up to. "Conversation?" Maura floundered, knowing that as honest as the answer was, it wouldn't be the right one. "I found the files you were looking for, finished my autopsy and body preparation, and I was just about to come up and see you when Barry..." She always used the man's first name, even though he'd always given her her title of respect, as far as Jane knew.

"Maura, he was practically pawing at you!" Jane's grip tightened again. "I can't believe he was acting that way. I ought to kick his ass. It's not okay to move in on... on..." Jane's eyes widened and she suddenly dropped her hand from Maura's arm. "On a colleague. I mean, during work hours... you know, he should be more professional." Jane rolled her eyes as she moved her arms to cross them over her torso. "You know what I mean! Maura, did he just call you by your first name?" She glanced to the side and said, mostly to herself, "He _never_ does that. When did he _do_ that?" She shook her head. "What were you two talking about before I got down here?"

Maura's expression of astonishment was one that could not be counterfeited, at least not by herself. "No, Jane, he wasn't pawing, or being the least bit inappropriate! Barry and I are starting to be friends, not only coworkers. He's perfectly professional whenever we're engaged in work-related matters. Which, technically, we were, at least at first. I probably shouldn't have mentioned his unfortunate reaction to my patients' appearance," she gestured at the sink, "but honestly, he looked so ashamed of himself, and I couldn't just let him keep feeling that way, could I? Besides, Barry wasn't doing anything with me that you don't do."

Jane shifted her weight and avoided eye contact for a few moments as she thought about what the medical examiner had just said. She ran a hand through her hair, scrunching her face up as she did so. "That's different. We have a different relationship, Maura. Men and women... I mean, guys, they... look, if you have a thing for Frost, just tell me, okay?" She frowned. "I don't want to look like an ass because I kicked my partner's for flirting with my... my best friend when they both were just trying to hook up with each other."

Tilting her head to one side, Maura considered Jane's facial expression, body positioning, vocal tone, and the exact distance between herself and the detective. She was missing something, something that it was clear Jane expected her to know. Her lips parted as she began to speak, then paused, then began again, then paused again. Finally she mused aloud, "There are recognized social customs that differ based on varying traits of the participants in an interaction, such as nationality, gender, ethnicity, political affiliation, religion, relative income and social status, and a host of other factors. I'm not really good at figuring out the distinctions, though, and it appears I've stumbled onto something that should be easy, but isn't easy for me. What exactly did I do incorrectly, or what did Barry do incorrectly, as you saw it?"

Jane closed her eyes and took in a slow, deep breath. She let it out just as slowly before opening her eyes again. "You know, I don't think it really matters. Look, sorry if I took things the wrong way. You should just be careful. Frost's a good guy, and it wouldn't be cool to lead him on if you don't mean to, and I know you, Maur," she rolled her eyes again. "For the most part, I know you don't mean to lead anyone on. Just, you know, just be careful."

"But what did I do?" asked Maura again, frustration edging into her face, tightening her voice and shoulders. "Barry never did anything that you don't do, and I only did what he did. How could that be leading him on? If Barry or I did something that was not appropriate, I need you to help me understand. Was it wrong for him to use my first name? I use his, and you've never mentioned it. I use yours, too, so it's the same. Should I only call him Detective Frost, or just Frost, the way you do? Is it because I'm a doctor and you're both detectives? Did I stand too close to him? I stand closer than that to you. Should I not have touched him? He touched me first. I didn't do anything that he didn't do first, and he didn't do anything that you don't do. I'm certain of it." Working herself up into a froth of confusion, nevertheless, Maura was on quite solid ground when she claimed to remember exactly what Jane had and hadn't done, every single little detail enumerated in her supercomputer brain, the little liberties that the two women had become accustomed to taking with one another. "Is it because we're different genders? I know that in North America it's uncommon for men to hold hands, but women hold hands easily with either women or men... don't they? I thought touch didn't become non-casual unless there were faces, necks, breasts, or lower bodies involved." Somewhere, she probably had either a notebook or a computer file with all these rules written down.

"Oh, geeze, Maura, really? Did you just say... never mind. You didn't do anything wrong. It was Frost, and he won't do it again." The muscles in Jane's jaw flexed as she closed her mouth to keep from making threats against her partner. The detective glanced down at her hands and flexed them open and closed as she thought about what she was trying to say to the frustrated woman in front of her. Almost idly, she ran her hands over each other, running her fingers over the scars. "Maura, we're best friends. At least, I think we are." She stared intently at the floor. "Best friends should be able to do stuff with each other that regular friends don't. They're," she held her hands out to indicate the shape of a box. "They're just some boundaries that regular friends don't cross that best friends can because the relationship is different." She looked up into the Maura's eyes. "You know? I just... well, I think that Frost's not the right one for you." She closed her eyes again, her face scrunching up. "You know, it's really none of my business. I'm sorry I interrupted, and I'm sorry I'm butting in." She sighed heavily. "I'm going back upstairs. Will you bring the reports when they're done?" She shook her head as she turned to leave. "I'm sorry, Maur. Sometimes I don't understand why I do the things I do." With a heavy step, she walked toward the exit to the elevators.

Without her conscious decision to direct it, Maura's hand reached out to just barely touch Jane - on the upper arm, as it happened, though it could have been anywhere. "Jane," she pleaded, voice soft, delicate as if she'd gotten scared. "It is your business. Barry's becoming my friend. He isn't my best friend. You are. You know that, don't you? I just don't... I'm not used to having friends at all, let alone a best friend. The boundaries and expectations are unexpectedly blurry. I know you have to get back to work, because there are still forty minutes left in the work day, but after work can we go somewhere and talk? Your voice and shoulders are carrying tension that you didn't have at lunchtime today, and, judging by your eye movements, I think I'm the one who gave you the tension. I've made you angry, and I've hurt you, and I don't know how."

Jane stood stiffly for a moment before relaxing and placing her hand on top of the doctor's. "It's not you, Maur. I promise." She gave her best reassuring smile. "I'm going to go back upstairs. But, I think I just need to go home tonight. I'll text you in a little bit to let you know if I'm up for company. Fair?"

Maura nodded, but her face was already withdrawn and her neck bent and sloped lower, as if that could disguise the slump in her shoulders. The rejection blues were clearly displayed on her expressive features. "Yes." Even her voice was small.

Jane mentally kicked herself. "Hey, you know I always like having you around. I'm just cranky, and I don't want to take it out on you. It's been a long week. I like you, Maur. I like being your best friend. I'd like to keep it that way." She turned to face the other woman, placing a hand on each of Maura's shoulders and lowering her neck so their eyes met. "I don't want run you off because I'm being bitchier than normal, okay?" She smiled, giving the slumped shoulders in her hand a light squeeze. "I promise I'll text you later."

Sunshine broke through the clouds as Maura eagerly accepted Jane's explanation. She always did that, was always so ready to forgive, to allow anything if it would let her not be the least bit upset with Jane. She would erase any boundary that either of them had put up. "Okay," she readily agreed, took both Jane's hands for a quick and reassuring squeeze, and walked back into the morgue with a spring in her step. 


	6. Chapter 6

**This is my favorite text message conversation... _ever_.  
**

* * *

***** Text Message Conversation, About 7:15 PM *****

Jane: Hey, M, I think I found a saddle for your turtle. It's big enough that Joe could ride him. It would be awesome! Think about it. We could take pictures. People would love it.

Maura: Jane, Bass is not a pony.

Jane: Big enough to be. Come on! The girls would love it. Admit it... it's a cute mental picture.

Maura: Perhaps in an illustrated children's story book, but not in Bass's real life.

Jane: It's not like he would even care. He wouldn't even feel it!

Maura: Bass is not a toy, Jane, just as you are not a runway model, even though you could be.

Jane: You're not starting that again, are you? Just because that woman who looks like me modeled, that doesn't mean I'm going to. It's bad enough Korsak and Frost had wallpapers with her in some silver swimsuit thing without it actually being me. I really hated that.

Maura: I'm not suggesting you should model, Jane, only that you are not the Plain Jane you believe yourself to be, nor the unlovely creature that you'd rather we all pretend you to be.

Jane: *sigh* Can we not go there, please? I get this enough from Ma without it coming from you, too. Let's get back to the important stuff here. Bass needs this saddle. Joe needs to ride the turtle. I'm telling you, it will be great!

Maura: The way you feel about modeling is the way I feel about my tortoise being used as a plaything. No. If you truly hate being told you're beautiful, I'll try to stop saying it.

Jane: You can't see me, but I just rolled my eyes at you. Don't you think your turtle deserves to have some fun? Wait, you think I'm... Whatever you do, don't say that in front of Ma. She'll try to hook us up.

Maura: Of course I do. That's why he has a biweekly play date in the park with other tortoises. And your mother is sweet. She really is active in showing her love for you.

Jane: Your turtle has play dates? What do they do, stare blankly at each other? ...Ma just wants grandkids. At this point she wouldn't care if I married you or Joe Friday, so long as we decided to have a family.

Maura: TORTOISE. Bass likes to eat berries, stamp to demonstrate his dominance, flirt with females, and sit among members of his own species. And if you'd like to tell me something I can't mistake for anything else, Jane, let's have dinner at your place tonight. You cook or order in, and I'll clean up.

Jane: Fine, tortoise. And how do you know he's flirting? What, he winks and makes kissy faces?

Maura: He makes masculine sounds around them, and sometimes they attempt mating behaviors together.

Jane: You know I'm watching NCIS tonight, right? You can come over, but I'm ordering pizza.

Maura: I'll be there, and yes, Bass has several excellent prospects. He is very attractive among his kind.

Jane: Did not need to know about your turtle's sex life.

Maura: You asked.

Jane: I was being sarcastic.

Maura: I find it even harder to perceive nonverbal cues in the strictly verbal medium of the written word than when in direct physical proximity to my conversational partner.

Jane: I know, my bad. See you around 7:30? Show starts at 8. Are you staying or going home tonight?

Maura: Let's decide when you've said what's on your mind.

Jane: Nothing! I was just saying that Ma is desperate, that's all. Why you gotta complicate things?

Maura: Again, I believe you began this avenue of discussion.

Jane: I was trying to get you to let me get the saddle for Bass. Let's focus here. BASS + SADDLE + JOE = INSTANT CUTE

Maura: When a lady says no, she means no. If you're so enthused about inappropriate equine accoutrements, I suggest YOU wear a saddle. It won't look any more ridiculous than Bass wearing one.

Jane: I've seen some people wearing... Never mind. My point is you don't know if he'll like it until he tries it. Isn't that what you keep telling me about stuff?

Maura: Oh, and I suppose I'll be expected to put on dressage attire? Or would you prefer Western riding style to British - maybe cowboy boots, hat, and chaps? (This, Jane, is sarcasm.)

Jane: What? You're not riding Bass, Joe is! But now that you mention it, that would be cute to put her in a little cowboy hat or something.

Maura: I meant for you, since you'll be the one in the saddle, NOT MY TORTOISE.

Jane: Hold up a minute. We got some wires crossed. Just calm down and hear me out. We put the saddle on Bass, then we put Joe Friday in the saddle, and cuteness happens. You and I aren't riding anyone.

Maura: I think Joe and Bass would look just as silly in that sort of thing as we would.

Jane: WE would look like the start of a really bad porno. THEY would look cute.

Maura: No, we would look and feel uncomfortable and unnatural, and so would they.

Jane: You know, you're a real killjoy. I'm just trying to bring some fun into their mundane little lives. But fine, whatever, if you want to keep them from having a little fun, far be it for me to stop you.

Maura: Thank you. But I did get Joe a little Red Sox coat for her walks in winter.

Jane: True, and she loves it. You know, I still think Bass likes the Sox batting helmet I got him.

Maura: I've begun to think you're correct. His head bobs up and down more when he wears it.

Jane: It's cute. Maybe we should take a pic with them in their Sox gear together?

Maura: I think it would be nice. We could make it our Christmas card photograph.

Jane: Christmas is over, Maura.

Maura: This year's, but I anticipate that another one will come in about 11 months' time.

Jane: Nah, that's too... Um, yeah, no. I just wanted to make a cute pic to send to the girls on Twitter.

Maura: You... don't want to have joint holiday cards?

Jane: That's a little more settled than I want to be. Anyway, you know I don't send out Christmas cards.

Maura: Of course. I understand, Jane. Do you still want to watch NCIS together, or is that also too settled?

Jane: I can't help but think I'm missing something here... but yeah, come over. I already ordered the pizza.

Maura: I'll be right in.

Jane: MAURA! You were texting while driving?

Maura: You know I would never do that. I was just... already here.


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh boy... here it comes... kind of... ;-)  
**

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Dr. Maura Isles was not known for wasting time, other than while texting, of course. When the door opened to her brightly smiling face, the smell of pizza wafted up from the box in her hands. "I ran into the delivery man on the way to the stairs. This smells good. I think I detect artichoke hearts, mushrooms, and olives, at the very least. It smells delicious. What else did you order on it?"

"Bell pepper." Jane grabbed the box from Maura's hands and flipped the top open as she made her way back to the sofa. "I wasn't in the mood for meat today." She shrugged as she dropped the box down and took a bite of the slice she had just picked up. "Wine's on the cabinet, but beer's better with pizza." She plopped down on the sofa. "Seriously, Maur, don't scare me like that, okay? People are crazy out there. I don't want to get a call some day with some other ME telling me _my_ ME is in _their_ morgue because she was texting while driving. Not cool, Maur. Not cool at all."

Maura headed to the refrigerator for beers and drinking glasses. "I told you, I wasn't texting while driving. I would never do that, as you already know. I am a careful driver, and I obey the traffic laws, including the one that prohibits use of telephones and texting devices while driving, unless they are hands-free and voice-activated." She took a moment to survey Jane's face and body language as she opened the beers and poured them into the glasses, achieving a really good head of foam on each one. "You sound angry again, and I don't think you're actually angry about the texts, because you already know that I abide by both state law and the laws of common sense. Are you still angry because I might start to be friends with Barry, too?"

Jane bit off a large piece of her pizza and chewed it in what could only be described as an irritated fashion. After swallowing it and taking a gulp of beer from the glass Maura handed her, she finally answered. "No." She added as an afterthought, "I don't care if you're friends with Frost." She took another bite of her pizza and stared into the space in front of her.

Maura didn't leave Jane's side, forgetting that standing right over someone after one's errand of beer fetching was complete could be considered odd, off, and creepy. She just wasn't finished yet with her appraisal of Jane's visible cues to emotional status. The angle wasn't right, though. Standing over Jane gave her a good view of the top of the darker woman's head, but not much facial detail. She bent over a little, then decided just to drop into a dainty, knees-together squat so she could more clearly see and discern whatever she was missing. At length, she touched Jane's chin with her fingers, pulling gently to turn the other woman's head in her direction. "But you don't want us to become best friends," she said, testing Jane's reaction to see if she was correct. "Am I close?" On anyone else, that question would have been a taunt, or a flirtation, or... something. On Maura, it was exactly what it looked and sounded like, a desire to ascertain the correctness of her assessment.

With a final swallow, Jane finished her pizza slice as her eyes came to a rest on Maura's probing expression. She swallowed hard as she tried to think through the fog that her friend's touch was eliciting. "Maura," her tone had a slight edge of warning to it. "You can be friends with whoever you want to be friends with." She reached up and gently pulled the doctor's hand from her face. "I just," she looked at their now clasped hands as they landed in Jane's lap. "I'm not sure this is where I want to go, Maur." Frowning, her eyebrows pulled together in concentration, the detective searched for the right words. "I don't know why, but, when I see Frost trying to get closer to you, it really bugs me. I'm not like that with Korsak or Frankie. But, Frost, he... he's... there's just something about it. You know?" She pulled her hand away and ran the tips of her fingers over her forehead. "I don't know what's wrong with me, honestly. I want you to have friends, Maur. I think it's good that you want to have them. It's healthy... _normal_ even."

Maura's face remained a mask of confusion for a long moment as she sorted through what information Jane seemed willing to give to her. There was more, much more, that she could sense beneath the plain meaning of the detective's words, but she wasn't accustomed to looking for it. Her attention began slowly, annoyingly, to be caught by smaller and smaller details. It wasn't like tunnel vision, in which only one small part of her vision was available to her; more like, one after the other, tiny things took on extra significance and demanded her attention, as if the world had suddenly become more sharply defined, all edges crisp, everything standing out in sharp relief. Nothing was allowed to fade or soften. It was, in fact, very much like being at a crime scene or in the midst of a particularly interesting autopsy, when everything was important because she did not have enough information to know what was or wasn't valuable, so everything had perforce to catch her eye and be noted. She shifted so that she stood on her knees, and since Jane sat on the couch, their heights were almost exactly what they would be if both were standing. Jane's words buzzed around in her mind, but there was too much data, or more likely not enough, for her to know which were significant. Though she'd been rebuffed before, Maura raised a hand to try and get Jane to face her fully again. "More data," she murmured, no doubt part of some much more verbose request that her mind had formed without nearly enough help from her mouth when it came to expressing it.

In the midst of Jane's internal moment of angst, hearing Maura request more data was so out of place she couldn't help but laugh. "Maura, really?" She shook her head, a smile still curving the edges of her mouth. "I don't know what to tell you, honestly. I think Frost clicks on my jealous nerve, maybe?" She shrugged, allowing Maura to keep her hand on Jane's face. "I don't know. If I knew, I could fix it, and then we wouldn't be sitting here talking about what's wrong with me. We would both be on the couch watching NCIS." She let out a sigh of resignation. "Maur, look, I'll try to get my act together. I want you and Frost to be friends. He's my partner, and you're my... well, you know how I feel about you. So, yeah, I want you two to get along. I'm really sorry, Maura. I don't know why I'm acting up. I promise I'll be good. Now, can we please eat pizza, drink beer, and watch NCIS? I've been trying to catch up."

Maura's lips pursed, but she acquiesced to Jane's request and rose to her feet, whereupon she smoothed her skirt, sat down close enough to Jane to reach the pizza box easily, and settled in to watch one of their shared pleasures. The fact that it was a rerun detracted from neither woman's enjoyment, since they'd been out on a case the first time the episode had run, months and months previously. As the camera panned over a scene in a bar, Maura commented on the various drinks people were enjoying, but was silenced at the sight of the lounge singer, a shapely derriere, a tanned and bare back, curly dark hair, a voice of liquid sex, and then... "Oh, my God, is that Agent David?" Even the extra cheese, drooping dangerously off the end of her pizza slice, went suddenly ignored. "I... had no idea she could sing."


	8. Chapter 8

**I don't know what it is about me having Jane watch this show. I guess it's the cast? :shrug:  
**

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Jane's eyebrows went up as she watched her friend's expression. "Yeah," she took a sip of beer as she tried to hide the look of amusement threatening to burst across her face. With a smirk, she commented as nonchalantly as she could manage, "Ziva's pretty hot in this episode, huh?"

And just like that, Maura was back in the real world. Her head swiveled, her eyes zeroed in on Jane, and not even Ziva David could compete as she sat there with her jaw dropped for a good ten or fifteen seconds as the surprise on the show broke and the intro played. At last she took a deep breath to collect herself and realized aloud, "You noticed."

The brunette shrugged as she continued to smile behind her beer glass. "What kind of detective would I be if I didn't notice when my best friend thinks another woman is hot?" Jane chuckled again. "Pretty freaking poor one, is what." She set the empty glass on the coffee table and returned to her slouched position on the couch. "What? It's not like I pointed out you had a run in your hose or something." She kept her face toward the television screen, but her eyes darted to the side to see the doctor's expression. "It's no big deal, Maur." She shrugged and took another sip of beer.

Maura's hand waved away her own revelation, which in truth she hadn't even seen as a revelation. She'd assumed Jane knew that all along. "No, not me. I pointed out her singing voice. You're the one who noticed that Ziva was hot. I was beginning to wonder if you were blind. Or immune. Or straight. Or that she wasn't your type, although I honestly couldn't tell why she wouldn't be, given that she's just like you. Competent, strong, badass with or without a weapon, and what was it that bartender said? Yes… Almost an excess of dominant energy. You and Agent David are like two peas in a pod. Though, come to think of it, maybe you're a bit too similar. While similarities do tend to keep a couple together, initial attraction is often accomplished through dissimilarities."

"Whoa, hold on a minute." Jane sat up and turned toward the blonde. "What do you mean, 'If I was straight'? Of course I'm straight. Have you missed all the guys I've dated? What about that whole conversation we had? You know... 'what kind of women would we like if we liked women'... remember? When did you suddenly decide I was... _that_ way?"

_So that's what Jane chose to focus on? Interesting_, she thought but did not say as she arched one brow pointedly, like a feline stretching awake. There was a challenge in the striking level of intensity that rushed into that hazel gaze, and then... she smiled. "My mistake," she said smoothly with a smile of offhanded apology. "Pass me another piece of pizza?"

"Damn it, Maura!" Jane stood up and walked into the kitchen. She threw open a cabinet door and pulled out a bottle with a dark liquid in it. With a quick and angry twist, the lid popped off and Jane took a long swig before putting the cap back. The bottle landed on the counter top with a dull but loud thud. Jane rested both hands on the counter, leaning forward so her face was hidden from the doctor's view. "God damn it, Maura," she muttered mostly to herself.

Maura tilted her head to one side. As the NCIS episode played out on the television, all but ignored, she stood up and left both pizza and beer alone. She wiped her hands on a napkin and then walked over to Jane, offering a calming hand on the shoulder without realizing that it could be taken in a different way now that Jane had been made aware of the one detail she'd held back from the detective. "I'm sorry, Jane. I guess I now have another reason not to make assumptions. I'm very bad at them, aren't I? Now you're angry because you're a female detective and a grown-up tomboy, and people have been making assumptions about you all your life, and your best friend just made the same one with little or no foundation in reality. Am I close?"

The muscles in Jane's shoulders tensed. She kept her head down. "No." She sighed as the muscles under Maura's hand twitched. Jane neither moved away or toward the comforting hand. Instead, she simply remained, head down, leaning over the counter top. "No, you're not." Jane suddenly stood up. She pushed the heels of her palms against her eyes as she turned and walked a few steps away from the other woman. "Oh my god, why didn't I see this before?" She bemoaned as she let her hands drop. She slowly turned back toward the blonde. "I don't think I'm drunk enough for this conversation."

One hand reached out to gently pluck the liquor bottle from Jane's grasp. "On the contrary," Maura replied quietly, "I believe that something is feeling very important to you right now. I think if it's important to you, then it's important to me, and I want to listen to everything you want to say. But because it's important, whatever it is, I think you need to be as sober as possible. Let's go finish the episode of NCIS and the pizza, and get the alcohol you've already had out of your system - an hour should do it - and then we'll have the conversation. Okay?"

Jane eyed the bottle in Maura's hand. "I'd rather just get drunk. That normally works better." With a deceptive move to the left, Jane leaned to the right and made a grab for the bottle.

"No." Maura's voice was gentle, soft, but firm and final. "As sweet as you are to call me normal, we both know that I'm not, so whatever normally works isn't going to work with me. On top of that, I want you to be able to say only what you want to say, so that later I don't have to wonder if I took advantage of your drunken state to manipulate you at all. And you won't be wondering, either. I want you fully in charge of your words and actions. As important as this is, whatever's on your mind, it's just as important to me that you be focused and aware of yourself." No exit, no excuses later, no Oh, I was soooo druuuuunk.

With a huff, Jane crossed her arms and walked over to the sofa. She fell into the seat with a grunt and watched the other woman walk around the room to take her seat on the other end of the sofa. "I guess saying we should just forget everything before I had my second bite of pizza is out, huh?" The brunette was slightly pouty as she reached for another piece of pizza. "At least the pizza's not cold."

They'd missed a little of the show, but surprisingly not much, by the time they were seated again. Maura gently replied, "I don't think I'll be forgetting, and I don't think you'll be forgetting, but if you really want, we can agree not to discuss anything at all about... whatever is bothering you. I won't ask, allude, or press. Ever. It's entirely up to you." She did, however, get back up after just a few seconds to put the beer back in the refrigerator and replace their glasses with glasses of fruit juice instead. Just in case.

"Don't think we could keep that kind of thing up very long without something happening," Jane said between mouthfuls of pizza. "Besides, it was probably only a matter of time before... stuff." She made a face at the fruit juice. "_That_ is not as good as beer is with pizza." She gave an accusatory glare at the offending beverage. "Don't say it. I'm only drinking this stuff because I know you're right, and don't tell people I said that." She took a sip and set the glass back down on the table. "I have a reputation to uphold."

Maura's silence implied tacit consent.


	9. Chapter 9

**Just don't judge me for the books I obviously read in my down time, ok? x_X  
**

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The rest of the NCIS episode played out and ended with the usual black-and-white snapshot. "That was a good episode, albeit very DiNozzo-heavy," acknowledged the doctor as she stood up to stretch tall and smooth out her dress and the muscles she'd kept still for the duration of the show. She cleaned off the coffee table as she asked, "Conversation followed by pajamas, or pajamas first?" It was usually understood that if they were together past about nine o'clock, there would be a sleepover, so of course the doctor had come equipped with an overnight bag. "Or would you rather stall and watch NCIS: Los Angeles?"

"No, that show sucks." Jane gave a snort of disgust. "PJ's first. I think I'm ready to lie down anyway." Jane stood up and headed toward the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower first, okay?" With that, she closed the door behind her. She ran through her normal nightly routine but stopped short of leaving her hair wet. She decided to blow dry it causing her to take longer to exit the bathroom than normal. When she finally stepped out in her robe, she looked around for the doctor. "Maura? It's all yours. Maura? Hey, where are you?"

Maura held up her shower kit in one hand, while the other supported the towel wrapped around herself. "Just waiting my turn," she said with a smile as she edged into the bathroom past Jane. She didn't pass through any closer than usual, but, with conversational topics being what they had for much of their contact that day, it might have _felt_ closer to Jane. Maura took her time, too, though not excessively so, electing to keep her hair dry so she did not slow herself down with having to dry it out. Once finished, she emerged, looking pink, slightly damp, but decent in her adorable cotton-silk flannel pajama pants and tank top. "Hi, Joe," she greeted the dog who clearly wanted her own turn in the shower, and gave the pup a bit of a cuddle before going to locate Jane.

Jane pulled on her favorite night shirt. It was a 'Property of Boston PD' shirt she'd won at a raffle a few years before. She had worn it so much, the fabric was beginning to thin in spots, but it was comfy. She contemplated the night pants. She normally didn't wear pants to bed, even with Maura sharing the space with her. She normally just wore her underwear, but she was feeling fairly exposed. After thinking about it longer than she liked, she decided to hell with the pants, pulled on a pair of grey cotton boy shorts, and slid under the covers. She was propped up in bed reading a novel with Maura finally came in with Joe trotting at her heels. She gave a small nod of her head and went back to her book as she waited for the other woman to climb into bed.

"Here you are. I looked in the living room first," Maura mentioned as she slipped beneath the covers, then patted beside herself. Joe Friday took a pretty good running leap and made it, thanks to a helping hand right before she would've bonked her nose right into the mattress. She glanced at the book, letting her eyes settle on the words long enough to read a few of them upside down if Jane didn't move the page much. "Are you ready?" A loaded question, but her vocal tone suggested no more than a reminder that the two of them could talk, or just turn out the lights, go to sleep, and not mention much of anything about the day ever again.

"Hold on, I'm almost done with this chapter. I have to find out if Anita decides to date the vamp or the dog." Jane held up a finger as she continued to read. "Well, damn. It's in the next chapter." With a roll of her eyes, she placed the piece of toilet paper she was using as a bookmark between the pages and closed the novel, tossing it on her bedside table. "You know, I really don't know where to start." She stared at the footboard, her hands resting limply in her lap. "I mean, how do you...I can't even," she looked down at her hands. "Why do I have to be so different, Maura? Why can't one thing about me be normal?" She looked over at the blonde. Jane's face was contorted, filled with an odd amount of pain. "You know what I mean?"

_Vamp or dog. Vamp... or dog..._ Maura shook her head and put that line of questioning entirely to one side. _Focus._ "Jane, you've made for yourself strong family connections, you have extremely loyal coworkers who are family in all but name, you're in top physical condition, you're gorgeous, and you're extremely intelligent. Insightful, too, when you want to see things. Normal may be a perfectly fine thing to be, but why should you try to lessen yourself to that standard when you're so much more? What are you really saying that you want?"

Jane picked the book back up and held it up for Maura to see the cover. "See this book? The main character is this really kick-ass chick, Anita. She's basically a vampire slayer. The problem is it's hard to find someone to date when you work with cops during the day and raise the dead at night. It's complicated. Anyway, she runs into this guy who seems like he's perfect. They start dating, and, come to find out, the dude's the leader of the werewolf clan in town. What's worse, the vampire in charge of the city they live in totally has the hots for her. She hunts vampires, right? So, in theory, she should just kill the vamp and deal with the love she has for the dog. Problem is, she really has feelings for both of them. She doesn't want to have feelings for the vamp. She wants to want what the dog wants... a white picket fence and 2.5. But, she's starting to realize that she has to take the good with the bad, and the leader of a werewolf clan... he eats people, but he doesn't want to. Like I said, it's complicated." Jane tossed the book back on the nightstand. "Anyway, she's stuck between the vamp, who gets her like no one else but who everyone will judge her for dating because, well, he's a vamp, and the dog who everyone thinks she should get with because he's close to perfect. He can hide what he is and most people don't know about his weirdness, but he doesn't get her like the vamp does." Jane sighed. "I want to know if I should go with the vamp or the dog." She leaned forward, putting her forehead against her knees, wrapping her arms around her legs. "I want someone to love me for all of my faults, who gets me, who isn't trying to change me to fit some preconceived notion of how they think things should be. I want someone who wants me to be me and love me and not the idea of who I might be if some things were kind of different." She chuckled to herself. "I want a Jean-Claude, but that means being judged by everyone for being with someone that a lot of society thinks is deviant." Jane ran her hands over the back of her head, resting them there. "I bet she goes with the vamp, too."

Maura's smile became smaller, more personal, more real. It was one of the many expressions she wore often when in Jane's presence, yet almost never with anyone else. Most of the time, she was completely at sea when it came to social interaction, and she'd had her share of missteps with Jane too, but, unlike most people, Jane always gave her a chance to sort out what she'd meant versus what she'd said. She'd become confident. To be fair, Maura Isles had been confident for a long time, but on an academic or professional level, or in the sexual realms of flirtation and seduction, or in the areas of fashion, etiquette, and so on, places in which the rules were clear and easy to understand. Jane had helped her to be confident in social interactions too, at least when she was interacting with Jane herself. So Maura didn't have any hesitation at leaning over and embracing the lanky woman, shoulders and knees and all, and placing a kiss on the side of her head. "I don't understand your analogy. I do understand that you're conflicted, and that you want to be loved for your authentic self and not for the little pieces of half-truth and mask that are all most people have earned the right to be shown. I hope it helps to know that I love you... That's something friends can say, isn't it?" She broke off, not unconfident, but uncertain of social norms. "I do. And, if I can see even a small portion of the real, authentic Jane and find that much worth loving, I know that whenever you do decide to show someone even more, they won't be able to help themselves. They're going to love you so hard that it hurts."

Jane leaned into the embrace. She slowly unfurled herself and wrapped her arms around Maura, resting her head on the smaller woman's shoulder. For a brief moment, she stayed that way, clinging to Maura as if she were some sort of lifeline. With an uncertain voice, she tried again. "Maura?" She cleared her throat, but didn't move. "I... you're the only one."

Maura pulled back just a little bit, giving her eyes the chance to focus on Jane's face again. So much of what she understood came from observing minute muscle movements, things that most would recognize on an informal, even subconscious level, but which she'd had to learn as if it were a scholastic discipline instead of something she should have grown up knowing. She held back from speaking for a long moment, then asked, "Would it be easier for you if I give you something before I ask you to give me any more? If we're... even? Because right now, it looks like you're afraid of something. I'm afraid of something too, but I don't think you should always have to be the brave one."

The brunette slowly sat up as she thought about it. "Yeah," she nodded as she straightened the covers. "Yeah, it would. I don't think I can do this alone, Maur. I'm sorry." She tried, without success, to pull the guilty look from her face. Jane hated not being strong, especially for Maura.

Maura smiled reassurance, though she faltered almost immediately as she realized that being strong for Jane meant being exposed for Jane. A deep breath settled her enough that she wouldn't hyperventilate into looking like she was lying about anything. It didn't stop her from blushing all the way from her face down to her chest where it met the top of her camisole, but at least she could speak without stumbling over her own words. "Come here, Jane," she beckoned, shifting herself and nudging Jane until the two were able to sit quite close together, perfect for conversing with lots of hugs when - not if - they became wanted or needed. Then she scooped up both of Jane's hands in hers just to hold them, touching those places that she'd treasured so much simply because she knew no one else got to come close to them. "You never have to do anything alone. I want to say more about that, but first I need to apologize. What I said earlier was out of line. I don't think of it as an insult to assume someone is gay or bisexual, but I shouldn't have indulged in what essentially was just wishful thinking. It was wrong of me to do that. Even though I did think I was correct, I should have let you come to that thought in your own time, no matter how long it was taking - especially if I'd been wrong."

Jane watched Maura's hands as they glided across her scars. She listened intently, trying to follow the woman's line of thought, but the contact was distracting. She pulled away gently, putting her hands back in her lap. With a grimace, she looked back into the reassuring face before her. "I already knew, Maura. I just didn't want to deal with it." She blew a puff of air through her nose. "I still don't, but it's not just going to go away. I mean, you can't change who you are... no matter how hard you try." She frowned and looked down at her hands again. "Some things don't go away or fade over time, you know?" She held her hands closer to her face, as if noticing her scars for the very first time. "If I say this...this thing floating around in my head, and I'm wrong about part of it, what do I do then? I don't think I could deal with losing you, Maura."


	10. Chapter 10

**Last chapter. PLEASE leave a review on this one.**

**Thanks for taking time!  
**

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Maura took another long moment to just look at Jane, but this time she was not memorizing for later anything for later or categorizing facial muscle positioning for later analysis. This time she was looking for the sheer sake of getting to look all she wanted. One long, long inhalation; hold; long, long exhalation. "You don't have to say it right now, Jane," she replied at last, transferring both of Jane's hands to her left and raising her right to tenderly hold that strong-featured face, to stroke a thumb over Jane's lower lip, following the pathway her eyes had drawn so often that the physical touch was almost unnecessary, just a formality. "Listen very closely, because while I am sure I will repeat this often, I want you to understand it fully the first time. You will never have to deal with losing me. Okay? Never. No matter what. There's nothing you could say to me right now that I don't want to hear. And if you need, I'm sure you're quite aware that I can keep talking as long as needed, until I say whatever it is that you need to hear in order for you to know that you are safe with me. I've got you."

Jane leaned into the touch, closing her eyes to simply feel the contact. "I know... I know you do, Maura. You always do. It's one of the things I love about you." Her eyes flew open in an instant. She froze, not sure what to do or say now that she'd said the one thing she was trying to avoid. After a few slow blinks, she finally broke herself free of her self-induced moment of panic. She took hold of the hand that had just a moment before tenderly touched her face and pulled it back down to the bed. "I've never had a," she shook her head. "No, too cliché, even for me." With a chuckle, she tried again. "Maura," she bit at her bottom lip for a moment as she thought. "Planning and talking about my feelings is not really my thing. I like to just do. So, if I just do, you promise not to hold it against me if it all blows up?"

Maura bit her lower lip. Everything slowed again, everything became significant again as it had done earlier in the day. Somewhere within her, Maura decided to remember every single thing about this night; then in an even deeper part of her mind, decided not to preserve the moment in plastic wrap, but to keep it alive and touchable. She didn't ask permission, didn't directly answer Jane's question, didn't say a word. She just leaned forward and kissed the corner of Jane's mouth where it met the warmth of her cheek, and her eyes remained closed as she let the kiss go without moving away at all. "I promise," she whispered belatedly, voice gone temporarily as husky as Jane's.

Jane inhaled sharply at the contact. Maura's reply was all it took for her to finally decide to do instead of talk. She moved her head slightly, connecting her lips with Maura's.

It was a soft, gentle kiss. Though the emotion was there, Jane took her time instead of deepening the kiss as she wanted to. She pulled Maura closer to her as the kiss continued until she could feel the curves of the other woman press against her. It took some effort for her to pull back, but she held Maura close, not wanting to lose the contact. "Maur, this is a scary thing for me." She leaned her head against the blonde's shoulder. "But, I don't want to pretend this didn't just happen." She inhaled deeply as she pulled them both down to lie on the bed. "But, I think I need to sleep on this okay?" She reached over and turned the light out. With a seemingly contented sigh, she wrapped her arms around the doctor. "I'll tell you this, though; I want to hold you tonight. Is that okay?"

"Yes," Maura breathed, calm despite the open passion in her darkened eyes. She would have said the same no matter what Jane asked, the habit of their friendship already well-established in her was to give whatever was needed or wanted, no questions. Jane had done it herself once, answering a phone by blurting out _"Whatever you want, I can get it_". The two of them really had only two barriers between them: actual sex and acknowledgement that such a thing as romance might actually be on the table. It seemed that Maura Isles, at least, had dropped even those barriers. Whatever Jane was ready for, she was ready for, too. Even yet, there was no pressure at all in the blonde, body language proclaiming softly but with certainty that she could wait for as long as was needed, until Jane was as comfortable as she was herself.


End file.
